


Mooch

by Trans_Sister_Radi0



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gay, I'm a writer you see, Is that how you spell shenanigans?, There's a cat y'all, This is gay and a christmas gift, cat shenanigans, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trans_Sister_Radi0/pseuds/Trans_Sister_Radi0
Summary: How can a cat just being a cat bring two queer women together? Come on, I can't be the only one who's ever met a cat!
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Mooch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vidnyia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vidnyia/gifts).



> THIS IS A CHISTMAS GIFT TO MY DEAREST DARLING HUSBAND! ~<3  
> I hope it's what you wanted, and that you really enjoy it  
> That goes for the rest of ya too!

Historia sighed and put her groceries on the doormat and turned back to her eager visitor. “I don’t have any food,” she said.

“Mraow,” said the cat.

“That’s fair.” Historia reached into one of the bags and pulled out the paper cup her lunch was in and threw the cat a popcorn chicken. “Now scat, ya mooch.”

The cat picked up the chicken, meowed with its mouth full, and ran off to the house across the way. Historia shook her head. Ymir’s cat was the freest, friendliest cat she’d ever met—unsurprising, given that his owner let him just wonder around, snagging food from her neighbors.

She headed inside and sighed as the door clicked shut. She was beyond tempted to just slide to the floor with her back to the door and fall asleep, but her feet needed slippers and her groceries needed to at least be put up on the counter. She was also tempted to throw her high heels in the trash and set fire to them, but she hated how short she was without them, and having other grownups tower over her while she tried to run a business was not ideal.

She kicked off her shoes and rubbed her sore heels before dumping her groceries up on the counter and leaving them to go to the bath, which she practically fell into in her haste for the hot water, abandoning the idea of slippers or pajamas as soon as the water soaked in, freeing up her tight, aching muscles.

She needed a vacation, but she knew her father’s grip on her career would never allow that—not on any old day, anyway. Vacations were for the holidays, when she was forced to sit and listen to him prattle and rattle on about his many accomplishments in business.

Sometimes, the brightest thing in her life was Mooch, the everhappy cat who always trotted over from Ymir’s to purr and rub against her ankles.

Envious of Ymir and Mooch for always seeming live in a wonderful simple life, she fell asleep in the suds.

* * *

Ymir sat on her front porch and scratched behind the needy cat’s ears. “Your breath smells like chicken,” she laughed, eliciting an offended meow. “What? It does. What’s Historia been feeding you, you spoiled mooch?”

Mooch purred as Ymir’s fingers dug deeper, but decided not to respond.

“Spoiled,” Ymir repeated, nudging the dish of milk closer to his feet.

The sun rose in its usual slow, steady pace as the two sat there in comfortable silence. Ymir stretched languidly as the first bright rays kissed her feet and started to warm her from the toes up. Until Mooch stole the single patch of sun by sitting squarely on her feet. She didn’t complain, considering he was warmer than the early morning sun anyway.

“Why aren’t you at Historia’s? You’d think a ceo would keep better track of her pets,” she chuckled. That sentence had become a tradition between her and Mooch—or at least her. Mooch always gave the same response.

“Mraow.”

* * *

Historia had been up since before the sun, and she wasn’t a fan of it. Her feet were still sore from the day before and she knew they would be until the weekend. She sighed, resigning herself to boredom and tedious bickering from those who each saw themself as the boss—until Historia had to remind them who truly was, again and again. She was just so tired.

Her alarm rang two hours after she was up and ready, just as it did every morning. She flicked it off and poured her untouched coffee down the drain before leaving the house.

She felt another pang of envy when she saw Ymir passed out on her front porch, her cat asleep on her feet. She wanted that kind of comfort, that ability to sit and relax and fall asleep in the sun.

Ymir was the sex ed teacher at the highschool, and as far as Historia had heard, she was a damn good one, but still had to grind her teeth and fund the local pharmacy through ibuprofen alone, thanks to parents demanding that they knew better than her and offering a never-ending supply of opinions and advice about how she could be better and how she was exposing their children to filth, so Historia was actually very happy for Ymir to have a day off.

Historia saw Ymir as a far stronger person than she’d ever be. She may have had to put up with countless bureaucratic idiots, but at least they weren’t know-it-all parents. Historia shivered and got in her car. Thank god for that.

* * *

Ymir got out of bed, poured a saucer of milk, and took it out onto her deck before stretching lazily and looking around blearily. No Mooch. She shrugged and stepped back inside for a coffee, fixing it and stirring in more sugar than water.

Back on the deck, she looked as the ray of sunshine hit where her feet would usually be and grew worried. Still no Mooch.

“It’s nothing, you dramatic idiot.” She drank her coffee, put on proper adult clothes, and headed to school, pointedly avoiding looking at the untouched bowl of milk still on her deck.

Her day was boring and slow, teaching teenagers about sexual safety and sneaking in little lectures about gender and sexuality because no other class would teach it and she knew the kids needed to hear from an honest, kindhearted source. She never gave the kids homework, knowing they learned what they needed while they were there, and almost all of them were sharp enough to know to look up stuff on their own or together if they forgot or wanted to know more about a specific topic. All in all, teaching children things—things she was supposed to, and not—was exhausting, but every ring of the bell left her feeling proud that she’d made a positive difference in the kids’ lives.

But that day was spent thinking about mooch, about the dish of milk left on her deck that would attract _so_ _many bugs_ , that maybe he was just spending the day inside Historia’s house for once, that he was injured, struck by a car or left bloodied after a fight with another cat or dog or—

She fought so hard to stay in her seat but fled the classroom nearly as quickly as her last class when the bell chimed. She drove home way too fast and hugged herself tight when she saw the still-neglected saucer.

She barely slept that night, worried sick about her orange nuisance.

* * *

Historia was on edge, she hadn’t seen Mooch for two days and her job had become even more of a nightmare, and when she stepped out her door that morning to see not a cat, but a bedraggled, bedheaded Ymir holding a full saucer of milk in her shaking hand, her alarm spiked. “Uh...”

“So how’s Mooch?” Ymir asked, seeming to attempt a sense of calm despite her eye twitching.

“I...was going to ask you the same thing. I haven’t seen him for two days now.” Historia swallowed. Why had Ymir asked her? Did she think she’d stolen him? Was he missing? The blood draining from Ymir’s face at her words answered her last question.

“It’s been _two days_ ,” Ymir whispered. “And he hasn’t come home?”

Historia was confused by what sounded an awful lot like a question but didn’t have time to reply before Ymir started again.

“What if he’s hurt? Or kidnapped? Or worse?! We have to go look for him. I’ll go get my coat and I’ll be back to get you in two minutes!” And with that she turned on her heel and ran back to her house.

Historia opened and closed her mouth several times before giving up and shutting it. She wasn’t one for a panicked search with a stranger—even a hot one—but the thought of Mooch injured or trapped somewhere lit a fire in her gut and she turned back inside to grab a heavier coat.

She met Ymir on the street and was handed a heavy flashlight. “For foes and shadows,” she was told, before Ymir took the lead as the sun crept toward the horizon.

“Bit dramatic for the suburbs, but okay.” Historia hefted the torch and hurried to keep up with Ymir’s considerably longer strides.

They looked in every nook and cranny, Ymir stuck her head and light down every stormdrain and in each garbage can they passed. Still, nothing.

“Maybe someone found him wandering and took him in. A bit irresponsible to have an outdoor cat without a collar,” Historia said as unsubtly as she could, straight at Ymir’s back.

“Yeah,” Ymir agreed just as pointedly.

Historia raised a brow but decided on silence for a little while after that. Instead, she chose to try and ignore the way Ymir’s hips swayed as she walked, constantly having to shake her head and look into the boughs of a nearby tree, not even half-expecting to find Mooch there, but happy for the opportunity to look somewhere that wouldn’t get her in a heap of trouble.

An hour later, the sun kissed the horizon and then sank below, forcing the two to turn their flashlights just to see ahead of them, rather than only in the alleys and mailboxes—yes, Ymir looked inside each one.

“Maybe we should head back soon,” Ymir finally groaned. “It’s getting late and we won’t get anywhere when we can’t fucking see.”

Historia snorted ungracefully at Ymir’s language. It had always been a family of clean, proper mouths for her childhood and, embarrassingly, adulthood. Ymir was a pleasant change-up of all that.

Historia put a hand on Ymir’s wrist and looked up at her as best she could in the fading light. “Just a bit longer, okay? I’m really worried and I don’t want him out another full night.”

Ymir’s cheeks tinged pink and Historia told herself it was the cold. “Sure thing, Miss Reiss.”

Ymir continued on ahead and Historia put a hand on her chest. “Oh damn that was hot,” she whispered low enough for Ymir to not hear.

Ymir was having a hard time focusing-and refraining to keep looking behind at Historia.

 _Miss Reiss? What the fuck was that?! Miss Reiss. Get a damn hold of yourself you useless lesbian._ Ymir’s thoughts weren’t helping her concentrate on anything other than Historia and the fast-acting, _massive_ crush she seemed to be developing for her.

It was well past nine o’clock and the streetlamps were the only light other than their torches. It had been a cloudy day, and evening hadn’t brought them clear skies either. The only sounds were their footsteps crunching along the gravel on the side of the road and the occasional kissy sound either made down a dark alley from time to time.

Ymir was cold and wanted to be in her warm bed, and having Historia suddenly right there beside her, scootching in close to share a bit of warmth was making her hate the idea of getting into a warm bed _alone_. She also knew Mooch was out there somewhere, just as cold and lonely.

“Moooooch!” Historia suddenly called, scaring the fuck out of Ymir and making her jump out of her skin. When no reply came she tried not to scowl down at Historia, who was smiling up at her rather meekly. “Sorry about that.”

Ymir shook herself and kept going. “It’s fine. You’re warm, so it makes up for it.” She blushed hard at her own words and wanted no more to stuff her hands into her pockets and turn around at her blundering. At least until Historia took her free hand and held it in her own.

“It’s getting dark and...you know, I’m warm.”

Ymir’s face burning did nothing to stop the cold, but at least it was too dark for Historia to see. She hoped.

Historia checked her watch at half-past midnight, and realized why she could barely keep walking. The only thing keeping her in pace was Ymir pulling her by her hand. She smiled slightly at how Ymir held so firmly and safely. It was so nice. _And she thinks_ I’m _warm?_

By two o’clock, their torches were dead and Historia had fallen asleep on her feet, and now Ymir had her slopped across her back, feet poking out in front like tiny lances as her arms crossed around her neck and she snored lightly into her shoulder. Ymir decide that had discovered, in undeniable form, the cutest thing in the universe.

She headed home, needing to get her cargo and herself into bed—separate beds, she reminded herself. In separate houses.

They’d find Mooch tomorrow.

Historia awoke to being lain gently in her bed, her shoes being tugged off and a blanket drawn up to her chin. She didn’t bother rousing when she heard Ymir whisper a soft “goodnight miss Reiss,” before padding out of the room and shutting the door behind her. She couldn’t hear if Ymir actually left her house, but she trusted her to. And if even if she didn’t, it probably wasn’t a big deal. She’d already passed out on the woman’s back and made it home safe. Ymir crashing on her couch for whatever reason was more than acceptable.

Historia scolded herself for wanting Ymir to have stayed and crawled into bed with her as she drifted back into slumber. Her dreams were filled with Ymir’s warm back and strong arms and heavy, musky smell.

* * *

Ymir had in fact gone home, and Historia wasn’t about to be beaten to their search and was knocking firmly at Ymir’s door as the sun rose behind her. Ymir opened it after barely a second, her jacket on and a granola bar held between her teeth like the world’s bulkiest cigar.

“Reish,” she slurred with a nod, her messy bedhead flopping gracelessly at the bob. “Wash jusht coming to getchu.” She held up a second bar, still in its rapper. “Eat. You look like you need it.”

Historia blushed and took it. “Thanks. Are we heading the other direction this time?”

Ymir nodded again and spread her arm down the street, the opposite direction they’d walked the previous evening. “After you, ma’am.”

Historia took the invitation and turned before Ymir could see her cheeks flushing even darker. What was she, twelve? She’d flirted before—dated, even! Something about Ymir turned her back into the nervous wreck she’d been as a teen. It actually felt really nice.

Ymir screwed up her face and resisted beating her face into her doorframe. _Ma’am? Who the fuck calls their crush ma’am? You’re a fucking fool, Fritz. And that blush sure as shit ain’t helping,_ she thought as she saw Historia’s cheeks flame up before she turned on her heel and marched away. “Damn that’s cute.”

The sun warmed their backs, then their heads, then shone in their faces and cast longer and longer shadows behind them and still no Mooch.

“Historia-” Ymir shivered at using her name in such a tired, comfortable tone- “I think it’s time to head home,” she suggested, her teeth beginning to chatter as the sun finally dropped and the shadows cloaked them fully.

Historia sighed and hung her head. “Fine.”

Ymir gave in and wrapped her arms around Historia before squeezing. “Hey. We’ll find him, okay? We’ll bring him back home to you. But for now, how about I cook us some dinner and then we sleep because we got like two hours of it last night and why are you looking at me like I just grew a ‘stache?”

“Back home to ‘me’?”

Ymir nodded hesitantly. “Yeah… where else would we bring him? He’s your cat.”

“What? He’s _your_ cat! It’s not my fault he comes to my house so often, but he’s still yours… what?”

“Reiss, he’s not my cat.”

Historia looked up at her in utter confusion. “Really?” Ymir Nodded. “Are you sure?” Ymir nodded again, fighting a wide smile. “Well, fuck!” She threw her hands up and abandoned her family’s clean-tongued tradition. “We’ve been spoiling a stray cat—such a clever fucking _Mooch_!”

Ymir swallowed down her laughter as it fought its way to the surface before giving in and doubling over. “I’m so fucking proud of that cat!” She straightened and wiped the tears out of her eyes. “And also of you, little potty mouth.” She rubbed her hand on the top of Historia’s head, lowering it slowly when she caught the intense glare.

“Sorry,” she said rather meekly. “Dinner?”

Historia puffed out a sigh and took Ymir’s hand. “It’s finer, you’re warm enough to make up for it, and yeah...I’d love that.”

Historia sat, at Ymir’s urging—and threats—and watched as Ymir pulled the casserole out of the oven and brought it over to her at the table. She held out her plate and Ymir doled out a healthy scoop before the doorbell rang and she went to answer it.

Historia scooted around in her seat to see Ymir open the door only to look down at her feet and sigh.

“Hey Mooch. Wanna tell me what the fuck that was all about?”

“Mraow!”

Historia shot up and ran over, scooping the cat into her arms and spinning him around before thoroughly checking for injuries, finding none. “Where you been, little mister? We’ve been worried sick about you!”

Mooch meowed happily and dismissively, headbutting Historia’s chin before wriggling for the floor.

Historia set him down and looked up at Ymir, who was simply stood there watching. “How’d he ring the bell?”

Ymir shrugged and went to the fridge to pour a saucer of milk. “No clue, and I don’t think he’d be keen on answering.”

The three sat down to dinner and soon Mooch was fast asleep on Historia’s feet.

Ymir lazily waved a food-laden fork at Historia. “It’s Saturday, and I happen to know, from seeing you leave every Saturday, that you probably had work today. Did you really not go to look for him with me?”

Historia sat back and sighed. “Ah, fuck that place, I’m quitting tomorrow.”

Ymir raised her eyebrows at that. “Really? That sounds a damn quick decision.”

“Ymir you have _no idea_ how much that place has been sucking out my soul, and yesterday, today—I’ve felt more alive with you two than I ever did at that hell or in dealing with my family. They suuuck, Ymir. You’ve been such a breath of fresh air. I’m sticking with people like you—hopefully you in particular.” She smiled as Ymir’s ears lit up like a fireplace.

“I mean...you do have a really nice kitchen.”

Historia threw her head back and laughed loud enough to earn a disgruntled meow from under the table. “You’re free to use it whenever you like.”

She stood and put a hand on Ymir’s, leaning down a bit to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for the past few days. Despite the reason, they’ve actually been wonderful.”

“Imagine the _good_ days with me around,” Ymir smirked, seemingly choosing to ignore how red her face was.

“I am,” Historia said softly.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so *I* thought it was meandering and hollow with a shoddy ending, but I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Please do leave your love or loathing in the comments (preferably love but I'm to *constructive* criticism)
> 
> And thank you so very much for reading <3 <3 <3


End file.
